My brother entrusted his child to me, and I livestreamed raising the baby, making the Empress cry wi

At midday in late spring, despite the recent rain, the sunlight was still quite intense, pouring in through the high windows of the council hall and cutting beams of light, glistening with dust, into the air.

The dampness left by the continuous rain had not yet dissipated, and when the sun shone on it, the entire hall was filled with a lukewarm and sticky humid atmosphere.

After listening, Dashiman seemed to be deep in thought. His eyes were half-closed, and his gaze pierced through the bright light in the hall, landing heavily on Canaan.

"You mean, those two people called 'He Jin' 'Na Yan'?"

Canaan straightened his somewhat stiff back.

His spine was stretched open vertebra by vertebra, like a string of rusty iron rings being slowly pulled apart. Each stretch produced a slight creaking sound, and the pain made his eye twitch.

After pausing for a moment, he replied confidently, "Yes. I heard it clearly, it was 'Nayan'!"

His voice was louder than before, and he sounded more confident.

Dashi Man laughed and turned his gaze to Ashina on the throne: "That's right, Your Majesty. That 'He Jin' is from a northern grassland tribe, and his status is not low."

He paused, a glint of light flashing in his eyes. It was as if a crack had suddenly appeared in the dark, cloud-covered night sky, revealing a cold, sharp star.

A gentle breeze carrying the coolness of damp earth slipped into the hall through the half-open window, causing the flames on the candlesticks to tilt and the light and shadows in the hall to flicker.

“‘Nayan’ is the younger brother of the tribal Khan and holds real power,” Dashiman continued to explain unhurriedly.

Ashina was also jolted; it really was true!

His hand clenched quickly on the armrest, then released, his fingertips lightly brushing against the red agate.

After thinking for a moment, Ashina leaned forward slightly, and the light from the high window swept past him, cutting a clear line of light and shadow across his face.

One eye shone brightly in the light, while the other remained hidden in the shadows, its depths unfathomable.

He continued, "Do you remember what they said? Can you retell it?"

He exchanged a glance with Dashiman, who nodded firmly at him, his movements steady and powerful, indicating that he would take over.

"The Prime Minister of the Dashi barbarian kingdom understands most of the languages ​​of the grasslands."

Ashina shifted his gaze back to Canaan, tilting his chin slightly towards him as he urged him on.

"Tell him about it."

Canaan knelt on the cold stone bricks, and the cold sweat that had just subsided on his forehead broke out again.

The drops trickled down his face, tickling his cheeks. He dared not wipe them away, letting them drip onto his robe, leaving several dark spots.

To retell the conversation?

The words those people spoke were like a spell, gurgling and entering his left ear, before they even had a chance to linger in his mind, slipping away untouched from his right ear...

I can't even remember that right now!

Canaan closed his eyes and pondered deeply, his face almost scrunched up like a dried date.

The stifling heat inside the hall seemed to have gained weight, pressing down on the top of his head and making his mind increasingly foggy.

He tried to rummage through the ruins of his memory, to dig out scraps of that conversation, but the harder he tried, the more blank it became.

He unconsciously twisted the hem of his robe with both hands, his ten fingers twisting the originally soft fabric into deep and shallow creases like a rope.

His knuckles were so clenched they turned white, and his face looked like he'd been constipated for three days.

Just then, his stomach started rumbling.

The voice came without warning, loud and long. In the council hall, which was unusually quiet as everyone awaited his reply, it was like thunder.

The frankincense in the incense burner at the corner of the hall had burned down to a single piece, from which a wisp of smoke rose slowly. The smoke dissipated very slowly in the humid air, gradually spreading along the crossbeams of the roof.

Canaan quickly covered his stomach with both hands, trying to suppress the gurgling sound that was still going on.

But the gurgling sound wouldn't listen to him; it continued, one after another, muffledly vibrating his palm through his belly and his hand.

Canaan curled up into a ball, his shoulders hunched in and his neck tucked in, as if he wanted to shrink himself into a ball and roll out of the temple.

He cautiously raised his head, secretly observing the reactions of the officials in the hall, a guilty and ingratiating smile on his face, praying that they hadn't heard him.

But things didn't go as planned; they not only heard it, but also found it quite unbelievable—

I just finished talking about eunuchs defecating, and now I haven't even eaten anything. I have a really good appetite.

Canaan's rambling, filthy narration still lingered in the air of the council hall, resonating in everyone's minds.

As a result, even though it's lunchtime, they have absolutely no appetite now.

Ashina twitched his lips, clicked his tongue, and raised his hand to rub his temples, as if trying to squeeze something out of his head.

But he still turned his head and gave an order to the servant on the side of the hall, his voice carrying a hint of helplessness and disdain: "Go and get a cake."

The servant acknowledged and withdrew, then quickly returned with a loaf of bread and handed it to Canaan.

Ashina said fiercely, "Take it and eat it. After you finish, think hard, think carefully!"

Canaan hurriedly took it and stuffed it into his mouth. The cake still carried the residual heat of the oven, its crust baked to a golden brown, with sesame seeds embedded on it, exuding a fragrant aroma.

Although he didn't feel anything about being hungry for a while, eating pancakes in front of a bunch of important people was really stressful.

With each bite, I felt like the gazes from all directions were piercing my back like awls.

But the king specifically sent someone to bring it to him, so it would be ungrateful of him not to eat it.

But looking at it this way, the King is actually quite nice; he even specially gave him some cakes to eat...

The aroma of wheat from the pancake melts on the tongue, with a hint of saltiness, and you can feel the chewy texture of the pancake when you bite into it.

As he chewed, his thoughts suddenly began to drift.

Give him a piece of bread... give him a piece of bread...

Take...eat...

Eat...take...

——! ! !

Canaan was suddenly jolted, but at the same time, a piece of bread got stuck in his throat.

Those small eyes suddenly widened, almost doubling in size, as if their pupils were about to pop out of their sockets. A surge of color rushed to his face, turning his entire face bright red.

He was clutching his own neck with one hand, and waving the remaining bread around wildly in the air with the other, scattering crumbs everywhere.

A dry heaving sound came from his throat, echoing in the empty hall, rough and terrifying.

Everyone in the hall was stunned by this scene and stood there dumbfounded for a moment.

It was Dashiman, who was standing next to him, who was the first to react. He shook his head and turned to give an instruction to the servant next to him.

The servant quickly poured a glass of water, rushed over to Canaan, and placed the water in his hand.

Canaan suddenly took the water and gulped down several mouthfuls. The water overflowed from the corners of his mouth, running down his chin and dripping onto his robe and the floor tiles.

However, the suffocating feeling of being choked finally subsided along with the water.